Tag: heath

One of the most exciting places in the world is the Atlanta airport. Sounds a little strange right? Not if you saw it like I do: a place of endless possibilities and a gateway to the rest of the world. Travel is something so dear to my heart, I consider it a friend. It’s a concept that has allowed me to eat strange foods, witness incredible sights firsthand, both ancient and new, and meet people with completely different cultural and social paradigms that have changed and shaped me for the better. I’ve learned more about history through my travels than I ever did in school, and have felt energy in places that produced a profound impact on how I understand that part of the world and how it relates to everything else. When I was visiting Normandy, our guide took us into one of the German bunkers on the beach and at once I was transported to D-Day. I felt an eerie, unsettling energy that I would have never experienced through films or reading. Travel did that, and it’s why I advocate for it so strongly–not as a future event to be undertaken after much planning and saving, but now, right now while you’re still hungrily curious about the world and physically able to meet the demands in fully seeing it.

I don’t think my affinity for travel is unique, but I have witnessed so many friends and family members postponing that next trip for various reasons, thereby missing out on so much that life and the often not talked about health benefits it has to offer. And while the reasons they proffer are absolutely logical and valid, I can’t help feeling sad about the missed opportunity of discovery, connection to others, and personal growth by foregoing the trip. So my humble advice is to go, just go. There is no better time than now to explore this amazing planet and get out of the ordinary flow of everyday life. Your bank account might take a temporary hit, but the law of reciprocity dictates that the little you give will produce so much richness of experience in return. There is never a time in traveling where you wont learn something from getting out of your routine and embarking on a journey. What you also will find, is that beyond all of the clichés of travel expanding your horizons, there are unexpected health benefits that make it imperative that you take that next trip sooner rather than later.

First, your build a better brain. Psychologists found that when you step outside of your comfort zone, you literally stretch and grow your brain. Learning anything new challenges and activates your brain in a way that following a routine simply cannot. When you travel you may not know the language, how to navigate a new transit system, or how to order a coffee just the way you like it–you are forced to learn, and by doing so you become smarter. When the brain is on autopilot too often, it actually becomes weaker and less efficient. The novelty brought on by travel zaps your brain into active learning mode, and the amazing memories generated are just the icing on the cake to a fitter, younger brain.

Second, travel deepens your empathy for others. Empathy grows best under specific conditions often correlated with travel: being in the present moment, listening, speaking to and relying on strangers, recognizing commonality in others, and cultivating an interest in others. Empathy, like anything, takes work, but its a skill that is beneficial to all parties. The more empathetic you are, the more you are able to prevent and resolve conflicts, be understood yourself, and promote healthy relationships. Travel is a powerful tool in strengthening your empathetic muscles, and often it doesn’t even feel like work.

Third, travel makes you happier. A 2016 study by the U.S. Travel Association and Project found that the more time taken off for travel correlated to more happiness at home. The more vacation days used, the lower the stress. The study also showed that over the past 15 years, Americans are taking nearly a week less of vacation. The case for travel could never be more important, especially when your well-being is at stake.

Life-changing travel doesn’t mean taking a trip thousands of miles away: simply going outside of your usual track of work, life, and play can have an impact. Not far from our house is a magical place called the Atlanta Chinatown Mall. Inside you will find a cornucopia of Asian food from different regions in China. When you first approach you’re greeted by a calming zen garden and a crimson bridge crossing a koi pond. The food court is definitely not fancy, but the food is unlike anything I have ever seen or tasted. I have never sampled more authentic Chinese food anywhere else–I generally point to what looks good as everything is written in Chinese, and try something new every time. Recently, my husband and I took our two young boys there, and our four-year old made fast friends with a Chinese boy around his same age. The boys were from very different backgrounds, but bonded over an iPad game and a love for fried rice. It was so interesting to watch them connect, and when the boys parents–who didn’t speak English, came over to retrieve him, there was that mutual understanding that all parents share when it comes to raising kids. We were able to communicate though our facial expressions and share an authentic moment together despite the cultural and language barrier. It made the experience of going out for good food so much richer.

The Chinatown Mall experience reminded me of one of my first travel memories: running through the San Diego airport away from my screaming mother. Our family of six was on its way to Okinawa, Japan for a two-year stint courtesy of the United States Marine Corps. I didn’t really understand where we were going or why, but I knew it was going to be completely different from anything I had experienced before, and I was excited. When we finally arrived after an uneventful 18 hour flight, I was introduced to an unfamiliar landscape, heavy humid air, and the smell of sea and salt from the ocean. My mother was understandably unnerved when a crowd of other passengers gathered around us while we waited in Customs, and started touching our hair. We were oddities with our bleach blond hair and pale blue eyes and they investigated us with open curiosity–looking back now, it was a fantastic introduction to Japan. The Customs clerk was equally as curious about this strange ragtag group of six, and made each of the kids a different origami figure to take with us, just because he was kind and knew we would like it.

We lived in an area called “The Ville” off base. My younger sister and I had a Japanese nanny, and she would sing us songs that I still remember today and sing to my boys. Because our nanny was Okinawan, we ate how the locals did, and our seemingly mundane errands turned quickly into an education on Japanese, and more specifically, Okinawan culture. We’d walk with our nanny or our mother to the Oki-Mart grocery store down the street and pass the different shops with various goods hanging in the window, usually some kind of poultry in its full form. The air in Okinawa was thick with the tantalizing smells of strange foods, the ocean, and mildew, creating a strange, yet comforting aroma unique to that part of the world. It seemed so stifling at first, but we all quickly adjusted and by the time we left, we didn’t even notice it. We didn’t speak the language of our neighbors, yet there was a bounty of learning and communication happening–as children this was invaluable to our development and growth in understanding, connecting, and empathizing with others.

I have no intention of bringing my boys on an 18 hour flight anywhere, at least not yet, but I know the extraordinary impact that travel had on me at an early age, and I want the same for them. I want them to converse with different kinds of kids like the boy at the Chinatown Mall, to taste food local to our destination, and to see landscapes they’ve never seen before. I look at it as my duty to show them the world, and spark the same curiosity about places and people who I still have today, so that they develop into smarter, more empathetic, and happier adults.

Whenever I travel, I am more awake, present, and alive then any other time. On my deathbed, I’m not going to remember those cool shoes I bought, or the purse I just had to have. Instead, I will remember that amazing meal I had in Nashville with my sister and brother-in-law, or the funny conversation I had with a Moroccan boy in a laundromat in Montpellier, or how unsettled I felt standing in a German bunker looking out on the beaches of Normandy. Travel offers you the unique opportunity to experience new places, food, and people firsthand, but its true gift is discovering who you really are and how truly connected we all are on this beautiful planet.

When was the last time you actively chose to remove yourself from every possible distraction? No phone, no tv, no external stimuli of any kind? Never? Aside from sleep, we just don’t ever unplug. From the time we wake to the time we set the phone on the nightstand, we are constantly under siege from outside opinions and activity. I had heard about floating from friends and Netflix’s Stranger Things, but never considered trying it until recently. I felt it might be helpful in my journey of self-awareness, so I did a little research, and found a place nearby.

Tucked away on Moreland Avenue in the Atlanta neighborhood known as Little Five Points, is an unassuming building that you would hardly notice if you weren’t looking for it. It was here at Flo2s that I experienced my first sensory deprivation float and unplugged from everything for a blissful 90 unobstructed minutes. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I booked the appointment, I just knew that I wanted to experience something new and possibly expand the boundaries of my mind to new depths. I wasn’t disappointed.

When I arrived at Flo2s I was greeted by a bright-eyed, diminutive receptionist by the name of Evelyn. She had a large Om neck tattoo and several piercings, and exuded a genuine feeling of warmth and kindness. I felt comfortable at once. She checked me in, confirmed that I had signed the health waiver, and brought me back to one of the tiled chamber rooms. It was actually two rooms, one room had a shower and changing area, and the other was the isolation chamber filled with water. She told me the owner had hand-built all the chamber rooms, and it had a certain artistic feel to it. Not perfect, but real. The first thing I noticed when I was being led back were the giant epsom salt bags outside of my room. Evelyn told me that they put 22 bags into every tank of 10-12 inches of water. Aside from the tea tree oil perfuming the salon, I could smell the neutral fragrance of the salt, not quite unlike seawater.

Before I showered, I put in red, puddy-like ear plugs that would create a seal strong enough to block any water from entering my ear canals for the duration of the float. The chamber room felt warm, but Evelyn told me the water was heated only to 96 degrees, close to human body temperature, so as not to distract from feeling like you are floating in space. Once showered, I climbed into the watery chamber and closed the door.

It was completely dark and silent. I thought it would be like getting into a bath, but instead of sinking down to the bottom, I floated immediately, and the sensation was one I’d never experienced before. I was like a cork bobbing on the surface of the water. but once settled I hardly moved at all.

It took a while to truly relax, my mind raced and I kept having random aches in my shoulders and neck. I couldn’t believe I was going to have to be there for a full hour and a half, the time ahead seemed daunting and I was apprehensive. After about 30 minutes though, I stopped fighting, focused on the inhalations and exhalations of my breath, and let my mind wander as it wished. I was fully awake, but it also felt like I was in a dream. Because there was no light or sound, my mind could completely take over and the visualizations I experienced were as rich and vivid as though I were dreaming.

The second half of the float was where I really started to relax. My mind was still very active, but now it was running at a much softer rhythm. Like watching a movie, I witnessed the thoughts come and go but felt no attachment to them. There were times when I was completely unconnected to my body, and felt like I was out in the ether, but then I would feel a ripple of water or I would touch the edge of the chamber wall and be brought back to earth. The physical experience of the float was always changing. When I heard the music come through the speakers signaling the end of the float, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it had ended so quickly. I was a little disappointed, for I felt that I was at the edge of a great precipice of realization and it had suddenly been pulled away.

I got up slowly, found my bearings, and opened the door to the shower room. The motion light came on and was so bright–I felt a little unsteady. The shower after the float,however, was amazing. My skin felt baby soft from the salt and the hot water was incredibly luxurious after sitting in room temperature water for so long. I got dressed and left my room feeling still oddly out-of-body. I thanked Evelyn, and exited the building to a luminous warm sun shining down on me. I felt an elevated sense of calm, and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. I had just hit reset. For the first time in my entire life, I had given my mind the opportunity to expand into nothingness with no agenda, no guided meditation, only focusing on my breath, and the thoughts that came and went. It was as if I had given myself a precious gift, and felt completely reborn.

Will I do it again? Absolutely. I feel as if I washed away years of stress and attachment. My mind feels pliable and alert. I also have a new perspective on myself and an awareness of the potential to go even deeper into my mind and achieve higher levels of consciousness. The experience was like taking a peek into an ocean ravine, and seeing even more depths below. It’s an exciting reminder of how alive and limitless we truly are if given the chance to explore.